


We're gonna do this in an orderly manner.

by barthelme



Series: Where we know. [3]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 02:08:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15939578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barthelme/pseuds/barthelme
Summary: this is for the date night challenge on tumblr but I'm terrible at like. following through. on things. correctly.





	We're gonna do this in an orderly manner.

Armie is holding the remote above his head. He has to press the down bottom twice to get it to scroll one spot on the Netflix screen and his arm is starting to fucking hurt. "Okay, seriously, what about _Lost_?"

"I just re-watched that," Timmy says. He's reading _Of Mice and Men,_ his socked feet resting on Armie's thigh. "Well, through season three. You know how I feel about--"

Armie rolls his eyes and scrolls. " _Black Mirror? Stranger Things?_ " Timmy grunts and turns a page. " _Grace and Frankie_ has new episodes. You liked that show, right?"

"Watched that season during lunch last week." He scribbles a note in his book. Dog-ears the page and then tucks the pencil back behind his ear. Wiggles his toes, digs his heels into Armie. 

"Oh my God," Armie keeps scrolling. "Oh! I've never seen _Mad Men._ "

Timmy sits up a bit straighter. Bites his lip and sets his book down on his lap. Then he grins and nods his head; Armie doesn't like this look. "Jon Hamm. Yes, I could watch that again."

Armie glares and blindly presses the down button. "Nevermind. We'll just rewatch _Park and Rec._ "

Timmy shrugs and settles back against the arm of the couch. Uses his pencil as a bookmark and places _Of Mice and Men_ on the coffee table. "Nice." Watches as the screen loads, then asks, "Hey, what if we skipped to the end of season two?"

Armie switches to season two. Rubs the top of Timmy's foot. "Like, the middle or--"

"Episode twenty-three," Timmy says too quickly for Armie's liking. 

He puts the remote down and wraps his fingers around Timmy's big toe as well as he can. It's getting colder and Timmy wears the most ridiculous wool socks. "What is episode twenty-three?"

Timmy smiles, sweet. "Oh, you know." Shrugs and tries to pull his foot back, but Armie grabs his ankle with his other hand. "Rob Lowe." 

Armie firmly twists Timmy's toe, eliciting a laughing yelp from his boyfriend. "Is there anyone you don't have a crush on?"

Timmy nods. "Nick," and they both laugh. Armie lifts Timmy's foot to his mouth and kisses his big toe. Tries to see if there's any reaction from Timmy, who is somehow bending at the waist and grabbing the remote from Armie's thighs. The back of Armie's knees ache watching Timmy stretch like that. "We can start from the beginning."  
_____

Nick throws a wadded up piece of paper at Timmy. It hits him on the cheek, then rolls down to settle on his chest. Timmy looks up from where he is sprawled on the teacher's lounge couch. "What did you two do this weekend?" Nick has two Red Bulls in front of him. Both open. He looks like he had time to shower this morning, but he definitely didn't shave and did _not_ bother with product in his hair. 

Timmy furrows his eyebrows. "Well, we got caught up on _Shameless._ Went grocery shopping." Grabs the paper ball and tosses it in a small arc from hand to hand. Shrugs. "We started watching _Parks and Rec_ again. Oh! And on Saturday, we made pasta. Like, from scratch. We have this cool machine that you feed the dough--"

"Wow," Nick breathes out. Picks up one of the cans and takes a long drink. Blinks rapidly. "You two are lame. I was basically drunk from Friday night until," he glances back at the clock behind him. "Five this morning."

Timmy rolls his eyes and throws the paper ball back at Nick, who dodges to his left. It sails over his shoulder. "This is why you don't have a girlfriend," Timmy notes. "You act like a frat boy." 

"Better a frat boy than an old married couple. Like, don't you two go _out_ anymore?"

Timmy nods, "I said we went grocery shopping. We went to Panera afterwards, too." 

Nick finishes one of the cans and tosses it towards the recycling. Misses. "Seriously, you two are the opposite of 'goals.'" He even uses air quotes, which makes Timmy's teeth clench. Timmy stands up and grabs Nick's can from the ground. Drops it in the recycling. "So, did you start from the beginning of _Parks_ or season two, episode twenty-three?" 

Timmy puts a hand on his hip and turns to face Nick. "What's episode twenty-three."

"Adam Scott. Armie's got a huge _thing_ for Adam Scott."

Timmy frowns.  
_____

Timmy pulls off Armie's cock and sits back. Wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and stretches his jaw, his lips. Looks up at Armie as he starts to jerk him off. "Do you think we're boring?"

They're in the elevator at the west side of the building. Furthest from the main entrance, furthest from their apartment so if they do get caught, they can just avoid the west side of the building until they move out. Timmy's back is against the wall now, and Armie is staring down at him. One hand balancing himself on the wall, the other on the "Close Doors" button that he keeps smashing with every ding announcing their arrival at the next floor. Periodically, he presses a few more floors to keep them moving.

"I'm fucking your mouth in an elevator," Armie hisses. 

Timmy leans forward and swipes his tongue along the underside of Armie's cock. "Yeah, but like. What do we _do_ really? We watch T.V. and cook." 

Armie presses floors four through ten. The elevator dings and he slaps the "Close Doors" button. Urges his hips to Timmy's face and groans when Timmy opens his mouth. Rests his tongue on his lower lip and slightly curves his upper lip around his teeth. Armie sinks into his mouth. Curses and starts rocking his hips, soft, soft, then hard, grinning when Timmy gags. Swallows. Watches as a line of spit drags itself from Timmy's mouth, drips along his chin. Onto the elevator floor. "We went," he takes a deep breath, "grocery shopping and made pasta this weekend. That's--oh fuck, Timmy," he pauses. Moves his hand from the buttons to the side of Timmy's mouth. Feels the stretch of the skin. Rubs his cheek softly, softer, softest, then slaps him. 

The jar of Armie's cock in his throat makes Timmy gag and he pulls back. Looks up at Armie, eyes watering. "Yeah, those are like errands and life necessities. We don't _do_ anything." He opens his mouth again and closes his eyes. 

Armie uses his thumb to wipe a tear away from Timmy's eyes. Checks, "You okay, right?" Brings his thumb to his mouth and sucks on it before returning to the buttons. Another ding, another two slaps. 

"Perfect," Timmy says quickly, rushing to open his mouth again. 

Armie laughs when he notices Timmy rubbing himself through his jeans. Notices the outline of his cock. "Are you not wearing underwear?" Armie can actually see Timmy's eyes roll, even though his eyes are still closed.

Afterwards, Timmy laughs as he stands up. Roughly adjusts himself in his pants. Wishes he'd worn gym shorts. "I didn't think about the camera." He points and waves at the flashing red light in the corner. Gives a thumbs up. 

_____

Armie isn't nearly as drunk as Nick. He has to go to work in the morning; he doesn't get Martin Luther King Day off--though they fucking _should_ , but don't get him started on that--so he's trying to play it safe. Drinking cheap beer and a lot of water. 

"Okay, so like, are you guys at that stage where you schedule sex?" Nick's chin is resting on his palm. He's swaying a little and Armie is downloading Uber so he can make sure Nick gets home alive. 

Armie thinks about last night. About bending over the kitchen counter while the oven timer beeped repeatedly. Pants gone, shirt shoved up his back while Timmy buried his face in his ass. "So close, m's'close, please," he panted and--"Yeah, no we're not scheduling sex," Armie coughs. 

"Okay, well when was the last time you got food that you didn't order at a counter? Hmm?"

Armie slides Nick's beer away. Takes a drink. Checks his phone; signs into Uber. Requests a driver. "I don't know. We went out with my parents like a month ago or--"

"With your parents? One, don't they hate Timmy? And two, oh my God, you two are the worst."

Armie rolls his eyes. Thinks about fucking Timmy on the floor. Burying himself in his ass, pressing his thumb against Timmy's stretched, red asshole. Leaning down, and spitting, watching his saliva run along his thumb, his cock. Timmy. Smoothing it along Timmy's hole, then pressing his thumb in next to his cock. Smiling when Timmy's back arched and he gasped, "Oh fucking fuck, fuck me, fuck me, fucking fuck me." Thinks about when he asked, "You think you could take two cocks? If we worked up to it?" And Timmy came, untouched, humping the air, fucking himself on Armie's cock and thumb. (Armie knew this wasn't something they would ever do, but the fact that Timmy would try--would consider it--would come just thinking about it--was something he didn't realize he needed.)

"Yeah, I'm not so sure about that," Armie says. 

Nick leans in. Drops his hand to the table and says, "It's not all about sex." He's too loud and Armie shushes him. Nick switches to a whispered yell, which isn't much better. "You need to treat yo'self and Timmy." 

Armie checks his phone. Nick's driver is three minutes away. "Alright, we need to settle up and get you to the curb."  
_____

"Are you sure I'm not crushing you?" Armie asks for what is likely the seventeenth time in less than four episodes. Timmy's on the last chapter of _Of Mice and Men_ , resting his head against the arm of the couch while Armie rest half on Timmy's body, half against the back of the couch. A leg draped over Timmy's body and cheek shoved against his chest. 

Timmy nods and turns a page. "M'fine. Start the next episode."

Armie tries to reach the remote on the coffee table. His fingers are less than an inch away, and he tries to stretch, stretch, stretch. Nothing. "Can't. Don't care. Read to me."

Timmy swallows, coughs. "Okay, so this is the really sad part," he warns. Recites: 

"You... an' me. Ever'body gonna be nice to you. Ain't gonna be no more trouble. Nobody gonna hurt nobody nor steal from 'em."  
Lennie said, "I thought you was mad at me, George."  
"No," said George. "No, Lennie. I ain't mad. I never been mad, an' I ain't now. That's a thing I want ya to know."  
The voices came close now. George raised the gun and listened to the voices.  
Lennie begged, "Le's do it now. Le's get that place now."  
"Sure, right now. I gotta. We gotta."  
And George raised the gun and steadied it, and he brought the muzzle of it close to the back of Lennie's he--" 

"Jesus Christ, isn't high school depressing enough?" Armie asks as he rolls further onto Timmy. Snatches the remote and presses play. "Can't you guys read like, _Harry Potter_ or something?" 

Timmy scans the book. He's read it enough times to read it without really reading it. Closes it and tosses it on the coffee table. Wraps an arm around Armie's shoulders and watches the show's intro. Kisses the top of his head. "Have you even read _Harry Potter_?"

Armie says, "I watched the movies a few times." Timmy rolls his eyes and massages the base of Armie's scalp. "Hey, should we get like, dinner? This week?"

Timmy shrugs. "I did meal planning, though."

"We can freeze it. What if we go to that new Italian place."

Timmy runs his hand up Armie's skull. Tugs softly, not enough to mean anything, but enough to make Armie sigh. "We can make pasta. And it's so expensive to get like. Noodles. So dumb."

Armie sighs. "Timmy, I want to take you on a date, okay? Can you just let that happen."

Timmy sighs. "Fine. I have a staff meeting on Wednesday, but I'm free Thursday night. Friday, I guess."  
_____

They fuck on the couch after two episodes. Shirts on, Timmy's sweatpants pushed down to his knees. Armie's pants long gone. Straddling Timmy and curving his body into him. Pressing his face into Timmy's neck while he slowly fucks himself on Timmy's cock. Pulls up, up, up until he can feel Timmy about to leave his body. About to be empty. And then pauses, kisses Timmy's neck and slides back down. 

"You love my cock, don't you?" Timmy teases. Runs his hands up Armie's sides, under his shirt. Pokes his thumbs into his ribs. 

Armie nods, slowly. "Yeah," he breathes. Sits up and reaches his hands back. Presses them onto Timmy's thighs, stomach pressed forward. Fucks himself, shallow, short, slow. Laughs when Timmy runs his hands to the front of his belly. Pushes his shirt up and dips a thumb into his belly button. "Stop," he shivers. Giggles. 

"I have to be up in the morning," Timmy mentions. Doesn't push him, just says it, just lets him know that it's past midnight. Armie nods and shifts up, down. Up. Pulls off and clumsily stands up. Tries to laugh off a stumble. Pushes the coffee table forward. Kneels in front of it and spreads his legs. Braces his elbows on the wood. 

Timmy's quick to roll to his knees behind Armie. The rug hurts. He wraps an arm around Armie, strokes his cock while taking the shortest of moment to press fingers against Armie's stretched hole. Loving the way Armie opens to his fingers. "Love you," Timmy whispers against the back of Armie's shoulder when he pushes back in. As he runs his hand through Armie's hair, forces his face against the coffee table. Snaps his hips.  
_____

On Thursday, Timmy calls during lunch. "Hey, so I just got roped into doing detention."

"Okay?" 

Nick glares from the couch. Pretends to scroll through his phone. 

"Yeah, so I won't get off until five, and I have papers I need to grade."

Armie sighs. "But I made reser--"

"I know, I know, I'm sorry."

"Can't Nick? Do detention?"

Timmy shakes his head and flips Nick off. "No, he's dong mathletes tonight." He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, I really am."

"No, it's fine. It's fine. Love you." 

_____

Friday, Armie gets stuck at work. Like _stuck_ at work. 

"My car won't fucking start," Armie says. 

Timmy is already dressed. Jeans and a green sweater. "What do you mean it won't start?"

"Like, it won't start and if I don't get it the fuck out of this parking garage, it'll be towed and--"

Timmy has looked at their banking account recently. He also took a year of high school auto shop. "I'll be there in like a half hour." Checks the clock. Rush hour. "Maybe forty minutes."  
_____

Saturday, Armie leaves his underwear inches from the hamper. "The fuck is this?" Timmy says. Points. His toothbrush is hanging out of his mouth. 

"Underwear," Armie says. He's pulling on an undershirt. 

Timmy scrunches his toes around the fabric. Flips the underwear up to his hand and tosses it into the hamper. "Look how fucking easy that was. God, you're so fucking annoying."

"Seriously?" Armie pulls on jeans. "Are you honestly going to be in one of these moods today? It was underwear."

"It's always underwear and you are always fucking leaving shit on the floor. And I've told you so many times that it is fucking annoying and you--"

Armie rolls his eyes. Waves a dismissive hand. "Oh, just shut up." He cancels their reservations.  
_____

They ignore one another until Timmy gets back from the library that night. Until Armie says, "I want to show you something," and grabs Timmy's hand. Drags him to the bedroom and pulls open their walk-in closet. Reveals folded sweaters and dress shirts organized by color. Timmy on the left, Armie on the right. Jeans stacked on shelves, and socks in little baskets that they bought months ago and never used. "I did that," Armie nods at his work. 

Timmy laughs and pulls him into a hug. 

They don't make it out of the closet before Armie is on top of Timmy, licking his throat and grinding against him.  
____

On Sunday, they go get coffee. Walk through the park. "I kinda just like," Timmy shrugs. Waves his coffee at nothing. "This."

Armie nods. "Yeah, I mean. This is good, right?"

Timmy takes a sip. Laughs. "Oh, it's good." Squeezes Armie's hand. "It's perfect."  
____

Nick doesn't get it. 

"But, like, how do you keep the romance alive?" 

It sounds fucking cheesy so Timmy rolls his eyes. Bites into his apple. Thinks about Armie carefully folding their socks. "If you need date night to have romance, then you're fucked." 

Timmy thinks about handing wet dishes to Armie. Talking about their days while they clean. Showing Armie how to best clean the microwave. Handing Armie bulbs as he balances on a stool under dead lights. Arguing about faucets at Home Depot. Ikea fights. Rearranging the living room so they can see the oven timer while they watch TV. 

"I guess," Nick says. 

Timmy stands up and rinses his coffee cup in the sink. "You'll get it eventually."


End file.
